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“Writing that was cathartic. In fiction I could make him the monster and absolve my sins.” Lena talked with her hands. They fluttered until she seemed to notice the waving and linked her fingers together. “It's a long story, but it sold and the timing was wrong and I tried to fix any reference by changing the hero and making it clear the book was not based on Bast.”

“But people assumed.”

“Yeah, and he got slammed again, this time even by his dad. I never wanted that. Bast knows all I tried to do behind the scenes to prevent the avalanche. How many people I called. The interviews I gave. The PR information I kept putting out absolving him. The long, awful talks with his dad.” Her knuckles turned white from twisting her hands together.

This time Kyra reached the whole way out. She put her hand over Lena's. Anything to get her to calm down and breathe. “You're still connected with him.”

“That's inevitable when two people share a piece of their lives.” Lena offered a lopsided smile. One that didn't reach her eyes. “But I see the closeness is too much now. It didn't matter before because he hadn't really been serious with anyone, but it matters now.”

“Not because of me.” Letting Lena think differently appealed to Kyra. But truth was Lena got it wrong and she deserved to know that. Sharing any part of her story had to be hard. Sharing it with the woman she knew now slept with her ex was unimaginable to Kyra. She could never be that sure or that strong. “You don't understand my relationship with Bast.”

“Yes, Kyra. I mean you.”

“He thinks I'm too young.” And that was just the first of her many sins, none of which were within her control but all of which appeared to matter to him.

Lena took Kyra's hand in her cold ones. “It's not about your age. It's about his fear.”

Kyra wanted to believe but Bast's actions painted a very different picture. “You've got this all wrong.”

“He did everything he could to make me happy, and in his mind he still failed. Imagine what that does to a man like Bast. A guy who can make any situation work.” Lena's pleading had changed to convincing and her voice remained clear and steady now. “I've seen the way he looks at you.”

“Like he wants to strangle me?”

“Like he can't live without you.” Lena tapped the back of Kyra's hand then let go. “He needs a woman who's strong and determined and won't let him win all the time. I think that's you.”

“How do I make him see that?” It was the wrong question to ask his former wife. Unfair and almost mean in light of how fresh her pain remained, but Lena's voice had lulled Kyra. It was so sincere. The caring in her eyes so real.

“Don't leave him.” Lena stood up then, sending one last sad smile in Kyra's direction before walking away. “Think about what I said before you give up.”

That's exactly what Kyra was doing, sitting there and letting the thoughts spin round and round in her head, when the security guard approached two minutes later. “Ma'am?”

The sound of the voice startled her and she glanced up as she cut off a yelp. “Yes?”

“I need you to stand up and come with me.” The man reached down to tug on her arm.

“Why?” The move so shocked her that she didn't react until he had her on her feet.

“Mr. Jameson has asked that you be detained for questioning.”

There was no way she heard that correctly. “What?”

The guard frowned at her. “Please don't make this difficult.”

Oh, she planned to do exactly that because it struck her that yelling might be the only way for Bast to learn a lesson or two.

Kyra stood in the lobby, right before crossing back through security and heading outside. A guard had stopped her with a hand and still hadn't dropped it. He looked ten seconds away from frisking her.

If that happened she'd start that yelling and not stop until that weasel Bast showed his face. “He said what?”

“I've got this.”

Speak of the weasel
.

Bast appeared out of nowhere, sounding half out of breath. He threw up a hand and the guard moved back. The people milling around the lobby didn't go away that easily. They formed an unwanted audience, which might be convenient since she was about to give a hell of a performance.

When he reached for her, she shifted to escape his grasp. “I'm going to kick you in the balls.”

“Please don't.” The second time his hand connected with her arm and held her still.

The grip was firm but not painful. She could shirk out of it without trouble. She went for the threat instead and glared at his fingers. “Let go of me right now or you will lose those.”

“We're going back to your place, getting a bag and you're moving in with me.”

Her mouth dropped open. She felt it and couldn't stop it. Couldn't form a sentence either. It took her a full thirty seconds and several scowls at people walking by them with obvious plans on eavesdropping, to kick-start her brain again.

She leaned in and forced her scream into a rough whisper. “Are you on medication or something? I mean, if there's a reason for these personality swings, just tell me because I'm starting to get dizzy.”

“Your visit came at the wrong time upstairs.”

No way was she accepting that lame excuse. “Try again.”

“What?” He frowned, as if her not falling at his feet and accepting his strange explanation amounted to an absolute shock to his system.

The weasel
.

“You were purposely trying to piss me off up there and get me to stay away from you.” Reliving the memory now had her temper spiking and a headache pulsing at her temples.

“I wasn't—”

“You have ten seconds to tell me something believable before I start screaming.” She started the mental countdown as she wrestled her thumping heart rate back under control.

“The truth?”

“It better be. Between tripping over your ex, who still seems more welcome in your office than I do, and dealing with your mood swings, I'm getting very frustrated.” And that was the understatement of the century. Kyra had passed frustrated and slow burn yesterday. She was headed full speed for fury territory.

His hand dropped from her arm. “Do you want out?”

“Of what?”

“Us.” His voice wavered.

She thought she heard a new tone. Pain maybe. Worry definitely. “You're asking about being out. Am I even in?”

“So far in I can't see straight.”

No hesitation. Simple and heartfelt, she felt the vow to her soul. He managed to rescue them from the edge of destruction in less than ten words. They'd turned a corner and she didn't even know if he realized it yet.

“Why do you want me to get a bag?” The request threw her. It was so far from any conversation they ever had. It lived up to every dream, but she dealt in reality and she needed to understand the one he currently operated in.

“I need you to move in. I can explain why later.”

“Can?”

“Will.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I promise.”

That was much better. Not so clear that she should forgive and forget, but enough to get them out of the public eye and to his house. “Come on then.”

“Where?”

Blowing out a shaky voice, she ignored the people watching and what the gesture meant and slid her hand under his elbow. “I'm getting the overnight bag and then you will hand me a key to your place so I don't feel like a guest when I stay there. After that you will explain to me why you keep acting like a douche.”

The tension drained from his face. “I can do that.”

She was betting everything on that. “Let's go.”

•   •   •

Bast never appreciated make-up sex until right now.

He tipped his head back against the headboard and fell into the sensation of having Kyra over him, riding his cock. She lifted her body up and down as she pressed her knees tighter against his hips. The bed thumped as she came down, sheathing him and sending his breathing into a speeding race.

“You feel so good.” He pushed the words out as his muscles tensed, teetering on the edge of release.

“I love this position.” Her body bucked on top of him. With each plunge, she took him deeper.

“You are not alone.” Her enthusiasm made every position his favorite. But this one almost put her in a trance. Her lower body moved as if a song played in her head. She didn't hold back. She went after what she wanted and brought him right along with her.

“Move faster.” He didn't beg but he stood right on the verge.

She tightened around him, clamping down until he had to grind his teeth together to keep from coming. Wanting her with him, he slid his fingers over her stomach then down. His thumb slipped over her clit, rubbing in time with their thrusts.

Fingernails dug into his shoulders and pinched his skin. Those sexy rumbling noises at the back of her throat grew louder. She was so close. He could see it in every line of her taut body and feel it in the shudder moving through her.

A hand shifted to her lower back as he guided her down, swallowing every inch of him inside her. He picked up the speed, lifting his hips and meeting her as she fell. Her breasts bounced in front of his face and he didn't waste the opportunity. Bending down, he slipped a nipple between his lips. Rolled it over his tongue.

Sucking, kissing, he licked her until she gasped and grabbed the back of his head in her palms. “Sebastian, yes.”

The cries spurred him on. He brought her body down even closer to his. Not letting even a whiff of air pass between them. “Squeeze me harder.”

Her head fell back as her thighs stiffened. “I can't take much more of this.”

“You can.” His hand brushed up and down her back, under her hair, coaxing her to lean forward and take him deeper.

“Make me come.”

His heart leapt. Hearing dirty words roll off her tongue took him to a place where control failed him. “Almost there.”

Leaning down, she pushed him into her again as her mouth covered his. She kissed him long and hard until he couldn't breathe. Couldn't see.

When she lifted her head, she whispered against his mouth. “I need to come.”

This time he couldn't deny her. Didn't want to hold her back for one more second. “God, yes.”

He slipped his hand into her hair and held her close for another kiss. Caught her soft moan with his mouth. One last time, she slipped over him then came down hard. The mix of friction with the touches and tasting set her body trembling. She clenched against him and her body pulsed.

Then she couldn't stop moving. Her chest, her legs. Those hands.

He held her through the orgasm and watched her as it pummeled her. Seeing her go wild with need had to be the damn sexiest thing ever.

Now, his turn. When he came, it hit him with a knockout punch that had him wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down against his chest. With his face in her soft hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, he let go, pumping into her until his muscles turned weak.

Their breathing mixed and the thundering in his chest matched the pounding he heard in hers. He held on to her hips because he worried if he let go for even a second she'd come to her senses and run. The things he put her through over the last few days . . . there was no excuse.

Yeah, he could argue about keeping her safe and not wanting to hurt her. Truth was he fought an internal battle to keep her at a distance and every day he lost a little more ground. Realizing it was one thing. Living through it made him lash out, and she kept wandering directly into the firing line.

She turned her head and kissed his neck. “Okay, now explain.”

The serious tone didn't match with the groaning of a second ago. “What?”

“Nice try. Having sex doesn't make me lose my memory.” She sat up.

He was the one groaning then. Being inside her and feeling her all around him didn't help his concentration one bit. But he couldn't put this off another second.

Knowing that and knowing what to say turned out to be two different things. “I'm working on a case that has some danger associated with it—”

“What kind?” She snapped out the question as her hands settled on his shoulders.

“Let me finish.”

She talked right over him. “You sit in a room and talk all day. How is that dangerous?”

His ego took a hit and he came out swinging. “I do a bit more than that.”

He kept his voice calm and smoothed his palms over her in an effort to keep the talk from blowing into something he couldn't control. There were limits to what he could say. Things it was safer for her not to know and things his job didn't allow him to tell her.

“No, I mean that's how I need to think of it. You sitting there, all safe in your sexy suit. No danger except from being hit by falling pens.”

He wanted to spend a few minutes on the “sexy suit” part but pushed ahead. Better to get it all out and analyzed. Then he could concentrate on rolling her over and taking her again. “Usually that's the case, but sometimes I deal in high-profile cases where serious secrets are involved.”

She made a face as if she'd tasted something rotten. “Spy shit.”

This is what happened with smart women. They cut through the crap and found the truth. In this case, hitting reality head-on only increased the danger. “Not necessarily.”

Her dramatic sigh let him know she was not impressed with his verbal sparring. “I know about Becca's old job.”

“How much?” Bast would bet she only knew a fraction, those things Becca could say without scaring people, which only took up a page or two of her massive CIA file.

“Enough to know she could probably kill a grown man with her pinkie.”

Bast thought Becca might not need even that much pressure to take a grown man down. “You're about right.”

Kyra slipped her fingers through his hair and touched the piece of his glasses that sat over his ear. “So, what's the danger?”

“I'm negotiating a deal for a person with a specific type of job.”

She moved from sighing to an eye roll. “Again, spy.”

“Fine. Use that word.” With her tenacity and stubbornness, it was easier to let it go and move on. “And there might be some people who don't want the deal done this way.”

“And you could be hurt.” She skimmed her other hand over his chest.

She touched him, caressing and petting. It was as if she needed the closeness to be sure his heart still ticked. He doubted she realized how she kept touching him without breaking contact. But he knew. Knew and loved it.

“The chances are remote, but I got to thinking if someone came looking for me, they might find you.” And that was the one scenario he could not tolerate. Would not allow.

She frowned. “This is one of those push-me-away-for-my-own-good type things?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “Oh, you adorable, misguided, old-fashioned sweetheart.”

Okay, not what he expected. “I liked some of those words but not others.”

“Sebastian, my father is a criminal. My brother used to work as Jarrett's enforcer to collect overdue loans. I know violence. I was raised with it and it bubbles all around me.”

“I don't want it to.”

“I know, and that's sweet, but I'm not a naïve girl in need of constant protecting. I definitely don't want to be shielded from the truth.” She shifted on his lap, easing even closer as her mouth brushed over his cheek.

He caught her hips to keep them from zooming right past talk to making love again. “I know how strong and smart you are, but the people in this case use guns and bombs.”

She pulled back and stared at him. “Talk about needing protection, you're a lawyer. I don't want you involved in this.”

He didn't want her scared and even now worry thrummed off her. “I don't know how much of a problem this is, but I didn't want to take the chance.”

“So you tried to send me away for my own good.”

There was no use denying since she absolutely understood. “Yes.”

“Don't.” She put a finger over his lips. “If there's danger, I want to be here, with you.”

He pulled her hand away and held it in his. “I want you safe.”

She skimmed her fingertips across his forehead. Picked his glasses off and gave a small throw to land them on the bedside table.

Then she turned back to him with heat in her eyes and a voice dripping with need. “I want you.”

That fast heat rushed through him. It ignited and flamed over everything. Wiped out every thought of sensible conversation and security.

“Again?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Still.”

Not needing another hint, he took charge. Hugging her close, her rolled to the side and slipped her under him. He stared down into those sexy eyes and got lost.

In his head, the running stopped. The haze cleared and he got it. For a second, they made sense. Them together. Forget the age difference and how much easier life would be for her if she found a guy without a ton of baggage. He was falling and he wanted her right there with him during the ride down.

“This time,” he stopped to kiss her. “I get to be on top.”

“Also a favorite.”

He laughed at how determined she looked. “Is there a position you don't like?”

“No.”